So very often, bits of past conversations between me and my precious friend and kindred spirit, the late Philip Knight, come back to me. Sometimes they boldly march across my mind, almost with fanfare; at other times, they gently float into my consciousness. How wise he was about so many things. How I miss him. He was a songwriter, musician, architect, and, in his own way, a philosopher. During the months preceding his death, his perception and ability to articulate important thoughts and put them into the framework of what I call the "bottom line" of an issue or concept ... had been honed to perfection. Or, as close to perfection as any human’s thought processes can get.
Philip was a steadfast and strongly vocal supporter of my music. As songwriters and musicians who, except for our devoted local and geographically remote friends and fans, remained largely unable to tap into the local music industry machinations, we were often frustrated and we often consoled one another.
In the midst of one such conversation, he remarked that people pursue success, thinking that they will chase it, track it down and catch it, or it will arrive (in some glorious, triumphant moment and grand fashion). The thought could follow, I suppose, "and then what"? But, not if one goes farther along with Philip’s definition of success: What if a person’s measure of success is really based on his feelings of happiness with the works he has created? What if, rather than by being in the public’s limelight or accumulating vast wealth, success really is defined by the ability to feel complete as a person and to be at peace with oneself? To be in love with one’s own handiwork and sense of beauty ... to know that you have done what you were destined to do!
It’s so easy to subscribe to the more superficial "success" orientation. I have done so, at many times in my life. But not today. Today I am grateful for the truth of Philip’s words and, I’m especially grateful that he had the courage to say them to me. They make all the difference in the world.
1 comment:
Thank you for pointing me here.
My friend was concerned with success, too, in the sense of making a difference in the world. She was worried that she hadn't, but her memorial service was proof that she had made a huge difference to those who knew her. It wasn't just that we loved her and she loved us; she made us better.
In our last conversation, I told her that the memory of her would help me be more strongly who I am.
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